Heart of the Child
by ColinandDennicCreevey
Summary: Harry Potter feels guilty and sorry for always rejecting Colin Creevey. Now Colin is dead. Can Harry get him back? Note: a lot of heart pain, grief and self-flagellation. Also involved in fanfiction is Dennis Creevey.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note:**

**the work is dedicated to my dear co-author Yukari2S. Without him, there would be no first chapter. I will be grateful to him for the rest of my life.**

The fight was over.

It felt surreal, Voldemort was finally dead.

Harry sighed, feeling exhausted. He was lying on the grounds of the Forbidden Forest, hiding from the rest of the world, from his friends and from those he considered family. He just wasn't ready to face reality, to see who made it and who didn't. A lot of people had died, it was war after all, but he couldn't help but feel it was all his fault one way or another. It would be easier for him to just avoid everything. He wouldn't have to see the bodies of all the friends who died for him, and he wouldn't have to feel his heart fall into his stomach for all of them.

Especially Fred, Remus and Tonks. They were so young, and they all left people on earth to grieve for them. His heart ached whenever he thought of his own godson, Teddy. Poor Teddy Lupin who just lost both of his parents to a war against a madman, just like his own parents. Luckily for him, his grandmother was still alive, Teddy wouldn't have to grow up hating himself for something he couldn't control.

"War is a cruel mistress" Harry though. She doesn't spare anyone. It cost the lives of hundreds upon hundreds of innocents, separated and destroyed families. He had to die so that it all stopped, yet here he was, somehow still alive after surviving the killing curse for a second time. Harry tried to get up, but felt a brand new kind of pain. It was curious, despite being used to pain from such a young age, nothing could prepare him for this… a cold, heart-stopping, gut-wrenching kind of pain like the sorrow of the dead. He could physically feel something painfully sharp dragging on in his chest, leaving a trail of aching wounds on his heart. Something he couldn't catch.

Gradually, that feeling grew stronger, spreading through his body like a wildfire in a forest. Then it stopped almost completely, leaving only a sliver of pain behind, like a phantom pain of a lost limb. The feeling echoed in his heart with every breath he took. Sometime afterwards, Harry managed get up. He went towards the castle, stumbling at every step. The bodies of those who died, both friend and foe, were no longer visible. Only the smell of pain and death remained, along with the rubble of the now destroyed Hogwarts.

Harry straightened himself, adjusted his clothes and breathed in deeply. "Come on, Harry. You can do this… You have to do this... For Everyone." he said to himself as he hurried to the Great Hall. He had to show the people of magical Britain that the war was finally over. As he came closer, he could physically feel the grief of every single person reunited on the castle grounds. People crying, hugging one another as if their lives depended on it, grieving for their deceased loved ones. The entire Great Hall was littered with corpses, rows upon rows of bodies covered with plain white sheets, probably spares from the infirmary. Harry felt a lump at his throat, Despite the fact that he spent quite some time mentally preparing himself for this, he still wasn't ready. He went straight to the center, where the entire Weasley clan reunited in front of Fred's body, concealing it from prying eyes. A sharp pain pierced through his heart, like a red-hot dagger, however, this time it was different. It wasn't as intense as the pain he felt while in the Forbidden Forest. He snapped back to reality as he felt Ginny put a hand on his shoulder, a sense of dread filling him seemingly without explanation.

"Let's go back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry," she said softly. "We need to talk. Ron and Hermione are already waiting for us there." She smiled at him, her teeth, a bright white shining back at him, and he knew that he should have felt happiness, but he didn't feel it. Her words felt cold and empty and her smile felt false and forced. But Ron and Hermione were waiting for him, so he just agreed "Okay" Harry said, smiling back at her "Let's not keep them waiting"

They walked through the Great Hall, careful not to disturb anyone. Harry involuntarily cast a glance at the dead. On the very last row, Harry saw a child, the youngest of all those who were grieving. He was so small that he could not give the appearance of being eleven years. He sobbed inconsolably over a body not concealed by a blanket, yet Harry still couldn't figure out who it was. Oliver and Neville held the crying child tightly, he was struggling to get out of Neville's grasp "He is my brother!" He cried "He can't be dead" Suddenly, Harry felt a tightness in his chest, as if an invisible hand had twisted his insides and turned them over, squishing his heart.

He fell into a world of void.


	2. Chapter 2

When Harry woke up, he as in a place he never thought he was going to see, at least for a long time, Limbo. He groaned as he got up from the floor _"What the fuck just happened?" _He asked himself as he explored a white version of the Great Hall, just like when he woke up at white King's Cross, a thin layer of white mist covered his surroundings.

There was not a single person in sight, not even the house tables where there. This place was deserted and lifeless, like a forgotten toy box that hadn't been opened in at least a decade, and Harry was more confused than ever. Fear crept under his skin, filling his insides and instilling despair in his heart. Why is he always the one that has to bite the bullet? Why was he stuck in limbo again? Did he only get to come back to finish off Tom?

Harry was scared, the last time he was here there was a way out. Now however, he was trapped. He could feel a presence in the room, it was invisible and it felt… empty. He heard whispers in the walls, but he was unable to understand their words. He was lost… he was alone again. Was he cursed to spend eternity like this? Deprived from all outside contact, stuck in a world forever unchanging?

A resounding voice shook him out of his thoughts, it was a voice so cold it sent chills down his spine…. It was laughing at him. The whiteness of the room suddenly vanished, streaks of an ink-like black liquid tarnishing the walls. A cloaked figure suddenly appeared in front of him, and despite everything Harry had seen in the last few hours, Harry could have died of a heart attack in this moment.

"I've been watching you, Harry" the cloaked figure said, it had a deep and resounding voice that could make even the toughest warrior cower in fear "You amuse me, young human" The creature said. Harry's breath hitched, he suddenly felt like a child, helpless and small. He was suddenly aware of who was he talking to, or what he was talking to. "What are you?" He asked, just to prove his theory "I am the end of all things, the reaper of souls. I am Death"

"What do you want from me?" Harry asked, but before Death could give him an answer, he felt like he was being pulled somewhere else. His head felt like it was exploding and he lost consciousness. When he woke up, his vision was very blurry _"I'm back?" _He asked himself as he rubbed his eyes. He was in a bed, and the room smelled sterile, like a hospital. _"I'm in the Hospital Wing" _he thought to himself. There was a buzz in his ears and he felt disoriented. He could hear someone trying to talk to him.

He got up from the bed as he looked around for his glasses. A hand tapped him on his shoulder. "Mister Potter?" a female voice asked. "Professor McGonagall?" he asked. Professor McGonagall handed him his glasses as she smiled sadly at him. "Welcome back, Mister Potter" a male voice next to her said "Professor Flitwick" Harry said with a smile "It's good to be back" he said to them. And It really was.

Harry spent several weeks recovering in a hospital bed. Madam Pomfrey had helped him get back in shape…. Mostly. Not only did she have to heal the injuries from the battle, she also had to help him recover from being in a coma for an entire month or so. That came as a shock to him, but apparently time was not a thing in Limbo. Physical Rehabilitation was painful and tiring, he was always sore after those long sessions of stretching his limbs, plus he had to take vials after vials of foul tasting potions.

He was still not allowed to go outside, even though his condition wasn't as bad as it was before, only the times where he was allowed visitors kept him from dying of boredom… if he could still die, that is. Madam Pomfrey had instilled a rule that he could only take two visitor for an hour and a half, as to not mentally exhaust Harry. The experience of being declared dead, coming back to life and then falling in a coma for almost a month had certainly taken a toll in Harry's body, and even now, neither Madam Pomfrey, the best healer in Great Britain, or any of the healers that came to Hogwarts from Saint Mungo's in order to help with the other residents of the Hospital Wing knew to a full extent the consequences that these instances could cause in a human body, as this was the first time something like this was ever seen.

Ron and Hermione came to visit him almost every day, the same with Neville, Luna and Ginny, they all helped him get up to date with the magical world's latest news. But deep down inside, something was definitely wrong with him, meeting with them no longer made him as happy as he was in the past. Yes, he did enjoy his time with Neville and Luna, but he still felt empty afterwards. As for Ron, Hermione and Ginny? He was unable to feel joy when he was with them. They called him the savior of the Wizarding World and tried to cheer up as best as they could, God knows they tried, yet he felt nothing and he was now annoyed with their antics most of the time, specially Ginny's.

He didn't understand how he could have ever been attracted to her. She was loud, louder than Ron even, she was clingy even though she and him didn't have any kind of relationship beyond a loose friendship and she was delusional to think they would ever be together. She had already hinted at him about their future grand wedding that would help the people of Wizarding Britain forget the horrors of the most recent war. Even if Harry wasn't gay he would never get together with her, she probably had a lot of STDs with the amount of unprotected sex she had in his sixth year. But he just sat there in his bed and nodded along. What else could he do?

Harry still felt an aching emptiness in his chest every once in a while, and every day that passed that feeling got stronger. Something that was supposed to be his forever had been taken away from him forever and he didn't know what it was, his soul knew this and it didn't know how to deal with the aftermath. It tormented and followed him everywhere, nothing had ever felt as painful as this. He feels guilty for not knowing, he felt as he hadn't cared enough for it in the past and now all his chances are over.

Harry wanted to figure it out to get at least some peace of mind, but there was no one to ask, and no one to talk to. His symptoms were attributed to PTSD and no one listened to his pleas for help

In some nights, he dreams of void all over again, he always hears a voice that's asking him to stay, it sounds so shy and heartbroken and it crushed him so much he cried in his sleep, he had tried to answer but he couldn't speak and all he could see where eyes, lots of greed-filled eyes watching his every move. He could feel a pressure in his chest, he could even feel some of his ribs cracking as the void vanishes around him, forcing him away from the voice, from his missing link.

Then he wakes up, all alone. And that's the way it's always going to be, forever.

Notes:

the work is dedicated to my dear co-author Yukari2S. Without him, there would be no first chapter. I will be grateful to him for the rest of my life.


End file.
